A Dark Passion
by Bane8
Summary: Harry returns to 7th year, only to find that a teenage Lord Voldemort has returned to school. It seems impossible, but in the midst of his hate, unexplainable feelings begin to manifest. A struggle of love, duty and jealousy...H&V, Ginny
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

It had been a terrible, painful process, becoming what he used to be. He had gone through the fires of hell, deep drowning darkness, endless journeys during which he had been blind, tortured, put through impossible suffering. He had screamed and writhed, cursed in his fevered sleep. But now it was over.

Voldemort smiled to himself as he looked into the mirror. He saw a sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle, tall, dark-haired and good-looking. He was going back to school.

Harry Potter dusted his robes down and smoothed his hair. His last year at Hogwarts. He had decided to go back after all, as Voldemort hadn't made any trouble for a while. Besides, the Headmistress had specifically requested for him to return and finish his schooling before joining the search for the missing Horcruxes as a fully-qualified wizard. He grinned at Ron as they leapt down from the carriage and made their way into the castle. Ron grinned back, as gangly and ginger-haired as ever.

Hermione and Ginny joined them a while later in the Great Hall. The atmosphere was slightly strained but they ploughed on with the conversation. Ron looked worriedly at Harry and Ginny, sensing the tension but not knowing what to do about it. He decided not to say anything – break-ups were a tender matter.

Harry glanced over at the staff table. Professor McGonagall's were furrowed and she looked rather troubled. Harry wondered what it was that was worrying her. If only he had known. For the week before, she had received a letter from a Mrs Robertson, a Muggle living in Reading. It had read as such:

Professor McGonagall

Headmistress

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Dear Professor,

I am Jane Robertson. I am of non-magical descent, but I write this letter on behalf of my newly adopted son, Tom Marvolo Riddle a.k.a Lord Voldemort. He has gone through much trouble to be sixteen again. I am pleased to announce that my son has renounced his evil ways and would like to resume his schooling. He feels great remorse for his actions.

As such, please allow him to join Slytherin House as a seventh-year student in the coming year. He does not need to be a student leader. As my request is quite simple I hope that you will understand and make a place for him. He will report to school when the term opens.

Thank you very much.

Warmest Regards,

Jane Robertson

P.S. He is a very sweet boy who is good with animals, especially snakes.

She had forwarded the letter to the Ministry. They had approved it after some deliberation, as part of their "Give Young Criminals a Chance" campaign. They had even spared him a trial, given his minor status. They had also agreed not to disclose details of his enrolment. So here she was, with a mass-murderer on her hands. And Harry Potter hadn't even graduated!

Obviously, the boy hadn't arrived yet. She fervently hoped that his mother had decided to transfer him to some Muggle school like Eton or something.

At that moment the door of the Great Hall opened. In strode Tom Riddle, his hair neatly parted. He smiled at Professor McGonagall and walked towards the Slytherin table. Pandemonium arose. Harry leapt onto the table and screamed out a hex. This was crazy. Lord Voldemort was in his school. He didn't know what was going on and why, but he had to do something. Tom flicked it aside lazily and glanced at Harry, holding his gaze for a moment. Harry felt his resistance ebbing away for some inexplicable reason. What magic was this? He couldn't tell.

"Don't fight me, please. I'm a good boy now," said Tom quietly. Harry couldn't help noticing that his voice was very low and mellow. The Slytherins edged away as he sat amongst them. Harry clambered down from the table, weak from shock. Ron and Hermione were looking stunned, but many of the rest looked scared but resigned. They knew, then. They knew. And no one thought to tell him, Harry Potter.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry threw himself back into his seat, feeling as though the world has just turned inside out and upside down. This couldn't possibly be happening! He buried his face in his hands. Across the Great Hall, slight chatter was beginning to resume but Harry felt incredibly confused. He tried asking himself why and how this would make any sense at all, but came up with nothing.

"Must have imagined it, you idiot. It's just some sad boy who looks like Voldemort," he finally told himself firmly, pushing aside his fringe and looking up. He glanced over at the Slytherin table and spotted the boy. He wasn't talking to anyone – everyone around him was sitting about a metre away and looking most uncomfortable. Harry stared at him. He wasn't facing Harry then. Harry noticed that the boy had very dark, thick, wavy black hair – he was pale, too, but not in the sheet-white way that Harry remembered – this boy had a slight tan and a healthy glow to his skin. The boy was tall, quite broad, and inarguably beautiful features. His jaw was angular, his mouth looked smooth and infinitely kissable. His eyelashes were thick and black, and he ate in a way that was suddenly very disturbing to Harry. And his hands – even from this far away Harry could see that they were large, sculpted, slender, like that of a pianist. If this was Voldemort, he was a very cute Voldemort. Harry sighed. No wonder he didn't stay with Ginny for long.

"Erm, Harry?"

Harry swung his head round.

Hermione and Ron sat there, looking intensely worried. Ron looked even more freckled than ever. Hermione put a hand gently on Harry's shoulder.

"Are you okay? This is really a mess isn't it."

It was such an understatement that Harry couldn't respond. Then he tried a strangled laugh. He sounded a bit like a troll. "Yeah. Hey. Guys. Tell me the truth. That boy isn't really Voldemort is he. I was just being jumpy wasn't I?" he asked, dreading the answer. Hermione and Ron looked at each other. Then they looked at Harry.

"Harry we got a letter before school started again, from MsGonagall. I freaked out totally and owl-ed Hermione, but we both decided it was a load of shit and someone trying to prank everyone, so we wouldn't freak you out worse. I mean, you're always pretty stressed and everything," Ron blurted out, casting terrified glances at Harry and Hermione while he spoke.

Harry felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach. He felt thoroughly sick. He glanced across at the Slytherin table and caught the boy's eye and felt even worse. "Fuck! Are the two of you dim or what! Fancy not telling me about that. Now the whole school is going to fucking die. Yeah, I'm pretty stressed. Nice of everyone to let the source of my stress practically sit next to me at school. Dammit. I'm going to take a walk," Harry hissed, before getting up huffily. Hermione and Ron made as though they wanted to get up too, but he shot them a warning glance and stalked off.

II

Harry walked and walked. _This seriously sucks,_ he thought to himself. He wasn't sure where he wanted to go, so he made his way to the Room of Requirement and paced outside before the doorknob appeared and he walked in. There were soft cushions and beds with soft tinkling music there now, with a gentle waterfall trickling in the corner. Harry lay stretched out on one of the beds, feeling too puzzled and worked up to concentrate on anything in particular. He fell asleep finally, thinking of the Riddle boy's face as he drifted off.

It wasn't a particularly peaceful sleep though. In Harry's dreams the Riddle boy appeared. He had a beautiful body. Riddle kept appearing naked, sometimes in boxers, sometimes in briefs, sometimes with nothing on at all. His body was so toned, in a lean way – at least in the dream – and his manhood pushed against the fabric of his underwear. In the dream their bodies pressed together. Harry hardened as he slept, and breathed quickly, pushing himself against the bed desperately, rubbing his swollen length against the bed stitching. The dream progressed and Harry turned over and lay on his back. The Riddle boy smiled at Harry and stood very close to him, before grabbing Harry's erect cock and rubbing it up and down. Harry gasped as the speed of his rubbing increased.

"Harry!"

Harry snapped awake and stared. Ginny was standing by the bedside in a nightgown, looking slightly amused. Harry looked down at himself and swore to find that he had stuffed his hand into his trousers and masturbated while he slept. He was utterly embarrassed and didn't know where to look. Ginny was still standing there, so Harry finally spoke.

"Look, Ginny. I guess you saw that. Awfully sorry. I was asleep and feeling horny. Please forget about it."

He looked up at Ginny. She was still very beautiful, he thought. Her red hair looked even softer and more lustrious than ever. Through that nightgown he could see the soft swell of her breasts – breasts he could still imagine, given they hadn't broken up for very long. _This isn't helping, damn._ His trousers felt uncomfortably tight. He hadn't masturbated for a really long time. If he didn't get out of there fast he would just lose control, and like, screw the wall or something.

"You were having a sexy dream?"

"Yeah, guess you could say that."

"What was it about?"

Harry stared at her, rather nonplussed. She had a look on her face. That look. Harry suddenly got an idea.

" Er…I don't think it's appropriate to tell you, you especially, about it." There it was, the hook. Harry hoped she picked up on it. His cock was aching and he could smell her perfume.

"Why not me, Harry?"

She had moved closer, to stand right in front of him. Her eyes had darkened and her lips had parted. Harry gathered his courage and pulled her closer.

"It was about you."

Ginny smiled and knelt down in front of him. Her fingers worked the buckle of his belt open swiftly and she undid his jeans. His erection was bulging hugely and obviously, and Ginny's breath caught in her throat. She felt a crazy heat at the pit of her stomach. She pulled aside his boxers and gasped as his hard penis slid into her waiting hand. Harry groaned.

Ginny began to play with his penis. It was so hard, so thick, so big, so smooth. Harry felt himself swelling even further at her touch. He almost fainted with pleasure when she began to suck on his penis, taking almost his entire rock-hard length into her mouth, in and out, in and out. His hips began to buck.

Finally he couldn't take it and he stood up, carrying Ginny off the floor with him. He carried her in front of him, her legs open against him, her sensitive area sitting straight on his cock. He pressed her roughly against the wall and began to rub urgently against her softness, making harsh sounds of desire as he did. _Well this isn't that Riddle fucker but it'll have to do. _She cried out. She felt tremendous urgency building up at her moist opening. She was extremely wet and she bucked helplessly against him.

Harry could feel her hot wetness getting on his cock through her soaked panty and he practically lost control at that moment. Tearing her panty in his haste, he slid his fingers across her swollen little nub and she moaned as the movement of his fingers quickened. With his index and middle finger he found her opening and pushed his fingers in, hearing her squelch as he did so. As he pumped his fingers in and out of her and rubbed her clit, she gave a long shuddering moan and began to pant desperately. When she was about to come she gripped his shoulders and gasped and the rush of feeling came. She felt like peeing on him so badly.

Then Harry couldn't take it anymore. He adjusted his penis so that it was right below her opening, and probed her with its tip. Then with a huge shove, he pushed his cock deep into her with a long groan. Out, and in again, even deeper. And out again, then in, and faster and faster. She began to contract around him. He was coming. He was coming. _Oh fuck._ He was hard and unforgiving in his thrusts – it made her a little sore but she welcomed it anyhow. And then, Harry thrusted especially deep and he came with a guttural groan, his liquid heat spreading in her, spurting and spurting. As he did this, she came as well, and this time she couldn't control herself and as she gasped and screamed, she lost control and peed in spurts on his body.

They stood like that for a while, savouring the aftershocks, before Harry slid his cock out of her and collapsed on the bed in exhaustion. _That was good. But a pity I had to lie about, well, nevermind. _Ginny smiled at him as she pulled her clothes on, waving her wand to clean off the cum and pee on her inner thighs as she did. "I need to go, darling. I said I'd go look for you and be back really quick. I guess I found more than I expected," she said, bending down to kiss him on the cheek and giving him a naughty grin.

He smiled. She was quite cute.

"Hey. Don't tell anyone I'm here alright. Even if they guess tell them not to come. I want to be alone for a bit."

"Alright. See you in the morning then." She opened the door to leave.

"Gin? Are we going to get back together?"

She paused and glanced back. Then she laughed coyly and fluttered her eyelashes at him, shrugging.

"Let's see how it goes, shall we?"

**Sneak peek (chapter 3)**

**Riddle and Harry get into a situation!! Please review extensively, because I might take a while to/not continue, studying!**


	3. Chapter 3

Harry smiled to himself as she left the room. He had missed Ginny. And it wasn't just the sex, even though she was a pretty good lay. She was comforting, and that was hard to come by in a world which had buffeted him about in waves of (unpleasant) surprises around every corner. _This relationship must have been rather tough on her, _he mused. He lay back on the bed again, recalling what had been said when they went their separate ways.

" _What's up with you Harry, seriously."_

"_What do you mean, what's up with me?"_

"_You know jolly well what I mean."_

"_No. Why are you so pissed?"_

_She threw up her hands and rolled her eyes and Harry felt rather intimidated – like her mother, she could be downright scary when angered._

"_Do you know that I'm not having it too easy here? First you throw me off when we're young. Fine, I was being a desperate idiot then. But now? When we first started out everyone stared at me as though I might be a fame-digger or a danger-digger – what the hell, everyone just stared at me and you all the time. When You-Know-Who seemed to lose his steam, I thought I'd have a bit of quiet time with you and we could be closer, but you seem addicted to hunting him and keeping track of him or something. You have your head in the clouds half the time. You're perpetually jumpy. You get so worked up when you don't have some crazy-ass thing to do. And sometimes when we're together, you seem bored. Argh. Damn everything. I hate it."_

_She turned away from him and sank into a chair._

"_So what's your point?" (Even he felt retarded saying that)_

"_Oh god. You see, you don't really understand anything, do you? I just don't know where we're going right now. We're both not very happy and I wish things were different."_

_Harry's face went red. He didn't want to get angry but it was hard to control his rage nowadays. He said through gritted teeth, "All very well for you to say. I don't think you understand either. Lucky you. You haven't had someone out to kill you at every corner. You haven't lived the life I had, getting pushed around by Muggles and then coming to the wizard world to miss getting killed once a school term."_

_She looked really hurt._

"_That really isn't the point, Harry. It's not that I don't feel sorry and frightened for you a lot of the time. I know you haven't had the most smooth-sailing life. But admit it, if you didn't have some excitement you wouldn't be able to sit still."_

"_That isn't true!" Harry shouted. They both sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Harry knew she was expecting him to reach over and hold her, but he refused to. He felt cold and distant._

_Finally she got up. Her eyes were red, he noticed. "I don't know what you think. But I feel we're aimless and there isn't much substance. I'm not sure if this can work out," She said quietly._

_Harry didn't look at her._

"_I guess we both want different things right now."_

"_Alright then. Fine." She began walking slowly out. "Let's just be friends, Harry."_

_As she left the room, Harry called half-heartedly. "Ginny…"_

_But she didn't hear him._

Harry sighed just thinking about it. He wasn't sure what he wanted right now either. But surely Ginny's door hadn't been closed forever. _I mean, a girl doesn't just walk in on you masturbating and randomly decide to fuck the shit out of you does she?_ He smiled to himself slightly gloatingly as he finally got off the bed and moved quietly out of the room, throwing on his Cloak as he went because it was too late to be caught out wandering. He padded silently down the corridors, finally allowing himself to reflect on what had happened in the Great Hall that that day. He could barely think about it before feeling utterly distracted in his confusion.

_It isn't possible, _he thought. _Everyone is hoodwinked, or something. _For a brief moment he toyed with the alarming thought that the McGonagall and the teachers might all be under the Imperius curse, but he decided that that was impossible – it was hard for a bunch of Dark wizards to go lurking unnoticed in the grounds, and having gone through all the scrapes he had, he was pretty familiar with the glazed look that came over the face of a victim – McGonagall's eyes had looked as sharp as ever, albeit a little worried. Harry sighed and resolved to speak to his two friends as soon as possible and see if immediate steps should be taken.

Just then, he heard something – footsteps. He held his breath, dodging behind a statue to avoid the main walkway. The steps were quick, confident, _powerful _even, and Harry wondered.

He almost fainted when a tall, handsome Tom Riddle came striding round the corner, looking broody, but walking as though he had every right to be out and about at this time of night. _Shit, what's he wearing under that? _A tank top, under a thin cloak loosely thrown about his body. Harry stared at the lean muscles rippling slightly in his neck and felt very strange. He flushed slightly and hissed mentally at himself for gaying on a young Lord Voldemort. _Fuck you, you idiot. All you should do is jump out now and curse him till he can't breathe, eat or fuck. _The thought of Tom Riddle fucking immediately brought half-materialized (and highly dirty) visions dancing into Harry's mind. _Damn bloody hell. _Harry felt his cock harden and felt an urgent need to rub it against something.

"Who's there?"

Harry froze. During his pleasant ruminations he had obviously betrayed his presence somehow.

Riddle glanced around suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. "I'm warning you. Don't you dare slink about and hide from Lor -- Tom Riddle," he called out, slightly louder.

That slip of the tongue brought Harry back to reality. This was Lord Voldemort, for Merlin's sake. Not an achingly hot seventeen-year-old sex-god. He had to do this.

Harry Potter slid off his Cloak and stuffed it beneath his robes before stepping out into the hallway, wand at the ready.

"It's just you and me now, Voldemort. I've been waiting for this."

Riddle looked only mildly surprised. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Call me Tom Riddle. That's my name."

"Fuck you, that's not your name, coward. This is all going to end here, with a duel. I'm going to make you pay for everything you've done."

Harry rushed it out. He had rehearsed these words many times in his moments of solitude, but now it came out sounding, well, like crap.

The other boy raised his eyebrows.

"You've been following me? Or have you just been waiting here all night wanking all by yourself?"

Harry smiled slightly despite himself. Wanking. That was obviously newly-acquired terminology. Probably learnt it from Muggle boys in Reading. He decided to stay silent. After all, Riddle was closer to the truth then he probably thought.

"What are you smiling at, Harry Potter? Anyway, I don't have time to take out a stick and play games with you. Scoot off."

And with that Riddle strode off. Harry stood there for ages, dumbfounded. He was still shocked when he was getting into his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory. Why was it that his brain just couldn't seem to reconcile a snake-like, wraith-like Voldemort with a tall, hot, broad-chested boy? They were, after all, one and the same. Both evil, scheming maniacs. But with Voldemort in Tom Riddle form Harry couldn't do what he felt was his duty. He couldn't curse him half-dead. He couldn't even put up the slightest pretense of doing so. He felt weakened. He felt unable to attribute anything foul to this beautiful boy. Okay. He felt attracted. As much as he had loathed the Voldemort of yesteryear, he now dug the current manifestation. But that couldn't possibly do.

_Maybe I'm freaking out. Maybe it's true that he's just Tom Riddle again. Maybe I shouldn't take drastic actions yet._

Harry decided not to worry Ron and Hermione yet. All the same, an eye had to be kept on Tom Riddle and his nightly wanderings.

_The next day…_

Throughout the next day Ron and Hermione kept glancing at him, rather worried. Finally Harry put them at ease temporarily.

"It's okay, guys. I'll just talk about it when I'm ready." They nodded at him, slightly comforted if not entirely convinced.

When everyone in the dormitory had fallen asleep that night, he crept out again, picking up his Cloak and then replacing it again, resolving not to be a coward. He crept out to somewhere near the area he had met Riddle the night before and waited. He could hardly believe it when once again, he heard the same quick, confident footsteps after a quarter-hour wait.

Harry contemplated springing out and cursing him, but that would be dishonourable, and extremely unrefined. Curious to find out where Riddle was heading so purposefully to, Harry put a mirage spell on himself – something he had learnt from Hermione. She used it to study for other subjects in class (because she'd mastered the ongoing lesson the year before), or to snog Ron in privacy. Harry knew because he'd barged in once on the latter scenario, having shifted his chair over to glance at an apparently serene Hermione's parchment and gone within the "mirage bubble", breaking it. Within a split second the serene Hermione had appeared on Ron's lap, acting in a most undignified manner.

_Silencio. _Harry followed Riddle down the hallway, feeling slightly sneaky. Then Riddle stopped suddenly and turned to face the wall.

Wait a second. Wasn't that the hidden entrance to the prefects' bathroom? _What the hell?_

"Bubbling Butterbeers," whispered Riddle, before moving in through the door that had appeared. Harry quickly followed him in before the door shut. _This must be some sick joke. I'm not going to stand in here watching Riddle wanking._ At the thought, Harry suddenly felt crazily excited. _Or maybe I am._

Riddle took out a towel and change of clothes that he had kept neatly bundled up beneath his cloak, placing them on a ledge. Harry could barely breathe in excitement. Then very slowly, he slid off his tank top. Harry's eyes widened. Riddle's back was broad, leanly-muscled and gently tanned. His waist was tapered in. The skin covering the expanse of his back was flawless, flexible, hugging his gorgeous form delightfully. Harry felt himself hardening. Riddle shifted slightly at that moment, and by moving to the left a little, Harry got a breathtaking view of his torso. If it were possible, it looked even more delicious than his back. His chest was supremely well-built – Harry could almost see the pecs tensing slightly as Riddle shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His nipples were small, dark buttons. Harry felt like licking them. With that thought, his trousers began to feel unbearably tight. He reached down and undid his zip, pulling out his cock and squeezing it gently.

That was when Riddle stepped out of his boxers.

Riddle's cock was huge. _Easily porn-size, _thought Harry, swallowing. It was only semi-erect, but Harry could see that it was perfectly formed, smooth, thick, evenly-muscled. A thin trail of hair led from Riddle's navel, thickening at his pubic region. Harry could barely control himself. He began to rub his cock faster now. He groaned as he thickened in his own hands. He closed his eyes, trying not to overwhelm his senses with more naked Riddle for a while.

When he next opened his eyes, Riddle was standing in the bath, turning on the overhead shower – he clearly wasn't too interested in the thousand and one taps. Harry immediately noticed, as the other boy turned to adjust the faucet, that his bum was tight and muscular. It was begging to be grabbed. _Fuck. _The water came gushing down.

For a while, Riddle just ran his hands through his hair. Then he moved a hand down and held his big cock. With a thumb, he caressed its head for a while, cupped his balls. His cock jerked to attention. Then Riddle held it firmly in one hand and began to stroke. And stroke. And stroke. Harry felt like he would collapse. Riddle was making deep sighs of pleasure as he touched himself. It was almost unbearable for Harry to watch. His cock was aching more by the minute. Harry spat on it and stroked firmly before slapping it several times against his flat stomach.

As Harry watched, mouth dry, Riddle formed a ring with the fingers and thumb of his other hand. Placing a hand against the wall for support, he then thrust heavily, gasping as he did. He began a rhythmic thrusting motion. Harry bit his lip as he got a full view of the other boy's cock. It was fully erect now, angled upwards, swollen and thick and long. The skin of it was flushed. _This was beautiful porn._

Harry felt pressure building in his balls and closed his eyes in utter pleasure, rubbing himself faster. It wouldn't be long before he came. His breath came in hoarse, uneven pants, his hips bucking with every stroke.

Right at that moment, he felt a strange sensation. It was as though a sheet of silk had suddenly fallen off him very gently. He opened his eyes in confusion.

Standing right in front of him, cock in one hand and fleshlight in the other, was Tom Riddle, naked, delicious and immensely shocked.

_Fuck._


End file.
